


In the Past

by megyal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-04
Updated: 2009-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco works hard so that his past doesn't mark him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Past

Draco sat still and waited as patiently as he could; he wasn't a particularly serene person, and many times it showed in his expression. His father always said that his face was the easiest parchment to read, and Draco worked hard on his public mask.

He hoped this mask was securely in place; the board of St. Mungo's Hospital, nine venerable witches and wizards, was perusing copies of his curriculum vitae. A few of the portraits on the wall were also squinting from out of their frames at parchment that had been placed on shelves directly beneath them.

"Mr. Malfoy," Elizabeth Adlard said; she was the witch seated at the head of the table, and she had a very dry, papery voice. She removed her spectacles from her face as she placed her parchment on the table, smoothing it down with gnarled fingers. "Impressive."

Draco inclined his head graciously. Of _course_ it was impressive. He had stabilised what had been left of all the Malfoy holdings, and had convinced his father to take an interest in both pharmaceutical and potions operations. His father had balked at having anything to do with Muggle medicine, but Draco's persistence was legendary. Annoyingly so, Lucius would grumble.

"There will always be sick people," he had declared loudly around the dining-table, while his father had frowned at him. "And there will always be more sick Muggles than Wizards. Also, our support and care of Muggle companies will assist in removing any former… stigma from the Malfoy name."

Lucius still disliked the whole matter, but at least he let Draco do what was best for the Eingana Group, as the Chief Executive Officer.

It had been satisfying, for a time. Draco was very good at telling other people what to do, and he found that his training in Potions was handy on both sides of the magical barrier. Under his direction, Eingana labs had begun in-depth investigation on the effects of Muggle medicine on magical beings. It was intriguing work, and Draco found himself in the labs quite often, reading the painstaking notes on such topics as the result of a penicillin shot in relation to casting simple spells.

Recently, Draco had felt restless. He struggled with this feeling for weeks, for months. He loved his work… but he felt that there should be more.

His mother had informed him about the search for a new Head Administrator at St. Mungo's, and Draco had dismissed it… at first. The more he had pondered over it, the more it appealed to him.

So, here he was, being 'impressive' in front of the board.

"You're quite young, Mr. Malfoy," Elizabeth continued, fixing him with a very sharp gaze. "And this hospital can grow in size as the need arises. Your youth might be a hindrance to the proper running of our facilities."

Draco nodded, and said, "I managed three labs and two private clinics for Eingana. This hospital is larger than those, but is more centralized. I'm sure I will be able to circumvent the fact of my unfortunate age, and give the proper level of attention to the patients and their caregivers."

Elizabeth's expression remained bland, but there was a pleased light in her eyes.

"Why would you leave Eingana for here?" Another witch questioned. "The Eingana Group is a highly profitable private company. A public entity such as St. Mungo's will be vastly different from what you are used to."

Draco had a lot of polished answers for this one; he wanted to be more involved with the Wizarding community, he wanted to bring his knowledge of Medicine-Potion integration… a fine set of responses; yet, he chose to speak simply: "I had wanted to become a Healer. I've learnt that I'm not very good at cutting into people's bodies, and I have a terrible bedside manner."

The board chuckled at this, much to Draco's surprise. He allowed himself a brief smile, and went on.

"But I am interested in helping to save people's lives, in a more direct manner than I've been involved with at Eingana. I can't be a Healer, so… I'll administrate. That is the closest I'll ever get, I suppose, and I'm willing to work hard at it."

The board-members nodded, and a tall, slender wizard rumbled, "And Harry Potter?"

Draco blinked. "Harry Potter?"

"Yes. As Head Auror, Mr. Potter's subordinates are in constant rotation within the wards. The hit-witches and hit-wizards actually have their own section. As the hospital's administrator, you will be in contact with Mr. Potter and we are aware of your history with him." The wizard stared at his arm, and Draco could feel all their gazes focused on it. Draco exhaled slowly and reminded himself that he would not let the Mark continue to mark him.

"Mr. Potter and I have a history, yes," Draco admitted in careful tones; he thought about celebratory dinner Harry had produced for him last night, confident that Draco practically had the job, and then smiled once more. "And it's all in the past."

*

Draco's first month as Head Administrator was _horrifying_. The paperwork was disorganised, the Healers-in-Charge of the different wards disliked and distrusted him, and came to meetings only under extreme threats on Draco's part, and he wondered if it would be better just to take back Eingana from the capable hands of his mother. He had nightmares about the patient filing system, but at least his assistant, Robert, was quite capable and calm.

"Thank you," Draco murmured one morning as Robert placed a cup of coffee beside the stacks of files on his desk. Draco was poring over the accountants' reports, his quill hovering over the finely-written lines; while the hospital wasn't in bad shape, they still needed to tighten up on expenditure.

"Healer Smethwyk has informed me that Auror Miller is still in stable condition," Robert said as he removed those folders that Draco wasn't using anymore and sending them back to their proper cabinets with quick flicks of his wand. "Also, Auror Potter is waiting to speak to you."

Draco's quill stopped in the middle of its restless track and he looked up, frowning. "Why didn't you send him in?"

"Auror Potter said it wasn't urgent." Robert was at the door, his eyebrows raised. "Will there be anything else, Mr. Malfoy?"

"No, not for now." Draco paused, and shrugged his shoulders once, trying to shake off that tense feeling that was sitting between his shoulder-blades. "Except… please tell Potter I'm free to see him."

"Very well."

Draco scribbled an approving line at the end of the account reports, making a note about a revision for rates, and then went on to peruse Healer-in-Training applications; he would need to go over these with the Healers-In-Charge. He was in the middle of contemplating a policy rewrite, when a small sound from across the room caught his attention and he looked up quickly.

Harry was seated in the couch that Draco kept in the corner of his office, his red robes thrown over the nearest stuffed arm. He was looking at Draco with a small smile and Draco felt his shoulders relax.

"Hello," Harry said softly. "This is the first time I've been in your office, you know."

"Welcome to my own personal torment." Draco wrinkled his nose. "You should really make more noise when you move."

"And waste all that training? Come on." Harry gave him a scolding look, and went back to that soft smile. When he was in public, his face was hard, lips tightly pressed together. Now, with that indulgent expression, he appeared so young.

"Is it what you've expected?" Harry asked suddenly; he had a way of speaking that had confused Draco had first, jumping from topic to topic until Draco had learned to keep up.

"No," Draco admitted. "It's not." He placed his quill on the dull surface of his desk. "It's worse than I expected."

"But?" Harry got up and walked towards Draco's desk in that eerily silent manner he had.

"But, I think I'll grow to love it." Draco dropped his gaze from Harry's intent stare. He pursed his lips briefly and continued in a tight voice: "I'm not saving lives everyday, like you do, Potter. But… I hope I make you proud."

"Oh, Draco," Harry muttered and bent close, cupping Draco's face in his rough hands. "Every day. You make me proud every single day. You gave up Eingana for this crazy place, because you wanted to make a difference."

Draco glanced down at his arm, where the faded Mark resided underneath the folds of his sleeves. One of Harry's hands moved from his jaw to press firmly against that spot.

"Don't let it mark you. Remember that," Harry told him, and kissed him on the cheek, chaste and honest. "It's all in the past."

 _fin_


End file.
